


An Apology

by Ylevihs



Series: How Not to Fall [2]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Deep Throating, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non Penetrative Sex, PWP, Retribution Spoilers, canon typical self loathing, mild choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-20 15:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18127985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylevihs/pseuds/Ylevihs
Summary: Richard tries to apologize to Herald without revealing what he did wrong.





	An Apology

**Author's Note:**

> *Richard slowly raises his hand*

“Your fingers are gonna get stuck if you keep doing that,” the words were softer than he wanted them to be, but it was so hard to be harsh with Daniel’s fingers running smoothly against his scalp. Tangling softly in his hair, sending pleasant little zips of tension down his spine with each errant tug. Daniel made no move to free himself, leaning down close to reclaim Richard’s mouth and sending Richard’s world bleary with the warmth of his lips. And tongue. Sliding gently over his own and tickling the roof of his mouth. 

Richard could feel Daniel’s lips curling into a smile as.

“Ouch,” Richard pouted, melodramatic just to watch the light pink rise up on Daniel’s face. The tugging in his hair wasn’t anywhere close to being painful but his simpering earned him a hushed

“Sorry,” and a nervous, parting peck on his lips. Daniel leaned back to look at his where his fingers were lodged in the fluffed mass of Richard’s hair. The movement gave Richard a clean view of the body not quite floating above him. Crossed lightly with thin scars, chiseled in a way that could secure Daniel a rather lucrative career as a Calvin Klein model if he ever decided to hang up the cape. Richard let himself touch, feeling like a grubby school child rubbing their hands over an expensive marble statue. 

He watched his own hand run appreciatively over the defined abdominals, sliding and bunching under his palms as Daniel shifted in muted excitement. The back of his throat felt dry. 

“Warned you,” and if he were in his right mind, Richard would have been horrified at the fond affection bleeding through so strongly in his voice. At how he couldn’t take his eyes off of Daniel, haloed by the dim artificial light behind him, like some sort of—

Richard’s cognitive abilities returned full force in time to stomp the word ‘angel’ back into whatever disgustingly sappy hole it had crawled out of. It.  
It wasn’t entirely wrong though, the rest of Richard’s mind mumbled stubbornly, still caught up in the vision of Daniel wreathed in gold light, smiling warmly, eyes half lidded as though Richard were the only sight ever worth seeing again. 

The blush was burning Richard’s cheeks before he could move to stop it, so he settled for clearing his throat. Too loud and too hard and Daniel’s mouth was back against him. Melting him. 

Hot and wet and tracing a thin scar along Richard’s on jawline, Daniel’s tongue drew sinister, formless patterns down his throat, lapping at the skin and making Richard want to arch up harder into the feeling. For just this brief moment, Richard promised himself, just tonight, he would let himself get lost in the swirling tide of _Daniel_. Suckling hard on the skin on his carotid and nibbling lightly at each scar he found and, goodness, he was going to find so many, wasn’t he?

The thought was thrilling and terrifying all at once. 

Just for tonight. One night could be allowed. One night where he could place the reminder— _I almost killed him, I was going to kill him, I could have, I might still_ —on a pristine mental shelf alongside all the rest of his traumatic tchotchkes to be mulled over at a later date. 

Because Daniel had reached his right clavicle, where a well placed knife had scraped the bone and left an ugly, ragged scar, and was kissing it so terribly gently. Trailing it’s length until it reached Richard’s sternum. 

Until he reached.  
Steady.  
Even.  
Warm exhales, billowing out over his skin. 

Love and concern and admiration. He’s staring at it, Richard realized, and the knowledge sat heavy and terrible in his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Richard swallowed hard and fought back at the insipid tendrils curling into the evening. One shadow made it through and sent a reactionary jolt tumbling down Richard’s nervous system. _Say something. Just say anything. Don’t just keep star—_

“I love you, Richie,”

Silence was better. Daniel placed a gentle kiss, more resting his mouth on the flesh than doing anything else, along the sharp, clear lines. His lips moved against Richard’s skin and, “it’s okay, you know, if you don’t say it back. Can’t say it back,” the words were so feather soft they could have been imagined. They sliced deep into Richard’s heart and lodged there, where he could feel them cutting deeper with every quickened beat. 

“---I,”

“Shh. I mean it,”

 _I know you do._ “Shut up,” Richard let himself say instead, miserably. Rising slightly. The shift forced Daniel to lean up and away. At least, it would have, if Daniel would’ve moved. Richard placed a firm hand on Daniel’s shoulder and made a decision. “And get on your back so I can show you,” just so he could jab back at Daniel for unnerving him so. _Confess your love to me, eh? I’ll show you._ Or something along those lines. 

Was it just that he was a quick study? Richard told himself a white lie and said it was. Daniel shivered heavily beneath his mouth, hips pinned to the bed. Half by Richard’s left hand and half by Daniel’s rather impressive self control. Richard was laying in between his legs, giving him a clean view to where Daniel had propped himself up slightly on a nest of pillows. Richard’s right hand busied itself, slowly pumping Daniel into hardness. On the matter of self control, Richard resolved to break it and slipped Daniel’s growing erection into his mouth, letting a wave of lust and oh. 

Oh, god.

Yes. 

Sweep over him. He kept the suction light for the moment, slipping his mouth ever so slightly lower, wriggling his tongue as he went. Daniel twitched heavily between his lips; under his hands, muscles tensed and relaxed with conscious effort. Ahead of his mouth, his fingers stroked and dipped lower to cup and fondle Daniel’s sack for a moment before returning to handle what his mouth wasn’t ready for. The rhythm was easy to establish, jerking him a little quicker with his hand than what his mouth and jaw were capable of matching. Moving his tongue just a little out of sync with the bobbing of his head. Richard pulled back slightly and drug his tongue along the length, lavishing open mouthed kisses along the way. When he slipped Daniel back into the warmth of his mouth it was to an audible soundtrack. Daniel moaned lightly and the sound sent flutters of self satisfaction all the way down to Richard’s toes. 

Surprise, bright and trembling, spiked through the haze. Richard swallowed once. Twice. Letting the muscles in his throat spasm in rebellion around the welcome intrusion before they surrendered. Relaxed. And allowed Richard to slip Daniel even further down until the tip of Richard’s nose was buried in dark blonde curls. Daniel made a noise that a rather helpful, if perverse, part of his brain recorded down for future enjoyment. 

Another dark tendril slipped through Richard’s defenses but there was enough physical sensation to drive it back into a corner for later. Far thicker, far less yielding things had been shoved down his throat; the ghost of disinfectant past lurking somewhere behind his molars at the hushed thought snickered. But he survived that. He could survive a minute or two unraveling the Ranger’s golden boy with nothing more than a mouth and an abused gag reflex. 

He could survive longer than that, really, but Daniel was straining not to levitate off the bed too much. Richard slid back just enough to clear his airway, Daniel letting out a held breath that could have been profanity if he’d let it mature a little, before he sank back down. Not nearly as deep as before, setting a leisurely pace that was going to destroy Daniel before too much longer. 

He was enjoying this. Not in the way that he’d enjoyed beating Herald or being feared by Ortega. Enjoying it because Daniel was enjoying it. The thought stood awkward and uninvited in Richard’s mental sitting room, unsure of whether or not it could take its coat off and make itself at home. It couldn’t, Richard decided after a moment, shooing it back out into the void. Richard liked to think of himself as a man of economy and he had precious little room left in his cabinets of self loathing for something as trivial as feeling guilty for giving a good blow job. He had much better reasons to hate himself than the way Daniel’s face was twisting in on itself in pleasure. 

One of Daniel’s hands had snaked down to cradle Richard’s head, just behind his ear, avoiding the booby trap of his hair. The pressure followed more than guided Richard’s movements, allowing him to lead. There was. 

Oh. What was that?

A tinge of possessiveness swirling in alongside the tender love and affection? Richard would have snickered were it not for the way his lips were stretched out. Part of his mind wanted to object to the feeling—who the hell did Daniel think he was, feeling possessive over him? Like he was a thing to be enjoyed? Taken pleasure from? Owned. A much larger part of his mind told the rest of it, kindly, to please fuck off and just enjoy the moment. Enjoy the way the last few threads of Daniel’s self control were snapping. 

The hand on his head pressed forward slightly. The hips under him rose, gently rocking, asking permission. Richard took away the need to ask, relaxing his jaw and slipping Daniel deeper into the wet, warm of his mouth. The thrusts were shallow, gentle, needy in a way that sent a thrill straight down Richard’s crotch. Painfully hard. They lasted almost a full, honest to goodness, minute before Richard grew bored and moved his head forward as Daniel slid up, taking the other man deep into this throat with his next thrust. Richard was rewarded with Daniel making a strangled moan, half pleasure half shock, and jerked his hips back down onto the bed. One ragged breath in to steel himself and then Richard repeated the action, both hands sliding beneath Daniel’s hips to grope at his backside and convince him to hump up into his mouth. Daniel caught on, too slowly for Richard’s taste but then again, what wasn’t? 

“Richie,” that. 

Oh. That. _Fucking_ nickname. Richard hated it. Loved it. His felt his own erection throb, trapped between the bed and his hips. The room felt heavy with need and pleasure and raw, open affection and. “Richard that’s,” Richard hummed and Daniel obediently fell silent; Richard could feel him focusing his attention on his own needs for the moment. His thrusts were steadier now, faster. Cool, thick bubbles of saliva began collecting on Richard’s lips, dribbling down Daniel’s length. They clung and snapped in equal measure, leaving Daniel’s lap a mess. Richard’s left hand slipped back around to pull at the base of Daniel’s cock, letting Richard draw his mouth upwards to suck hard at the tip. After judging the feel for a moment or two he let the hand abandon its task, resting it on the crest of Daniel’s thigh, and took him deep again. And then locked himself there, bucking in time with Daniel’s meek half thrusts to keep the organ lodged firmly in his body. His throat, if either man had really been paying close attention, made a truly disturbing noise at the action.

Daniel squeaked. It could have been Richard’s name. He shuddered and moaned low and that was definitely Richard’s name. Without telling them to, Richard’s hips rolled forward, looking for any kind of friction for his own pleasure.

Somewhere, in the distant recesses of Richard’s mind, an alarm began going off. _Can’t breathe._

Richard ignored it, anchoring himself down and feeling Daniel tensing under him. Whatever light and sepia toned emotions Daniel had been feeling before had been tossed aside. He was blasting nothing short of animal desperation. Almost nothing.

 _Need to breathe_ , his. Not his mind pointed out. God. Fuck. Daniel’s mind pointed that out. Hero. Richard swallowed hard, choking, throat clicking painfully loudly, to make a point. It was no lie to say that Richard could hold out much longer. 

Daniel’s hand twisted wonderfully tightly in Richard’s hair. It was actually impressive. How close Daniel was—even without his powers Richard imagined he’d be able to feel that closeness in his bones—and how much he was resisting the urge to. Well. Do a lot of things, Richard noted with no small amount of relish. _Can’t breathe_. To thrust haphazardly down Richard’s throat. To pull back and finish himself off, spilling on Richard’s face. And instead he forced himself to fall back to gently, urgently rocking upwards. Movements so shallow that if Richard weren’t actively clamped down on him would have hardly even qualified as thrusts. 

Richard’s throat began constricting hard, despite his best efforts. _Can’t fucking breathe_. The hand in his hair twisted sharply, unintentional in its desperation. With the equivalent of a mental grumble, Richard pulled himself off of Daniel, coughing raw and ragged, slips of water streaming from the corners of his eyes. Daniel’s concern ebbed back, ushered away in no small part by Richard’s mouth, sloppy and slick, running over him. Suckling at him. Hot breath heaving steady over his twitching flesh. And Richard’s hand, pumping along rapidly. 

“Oh god, Richie, I,” a quick perusal of the surface thoughts, just to peak and see which suited his mood best at the moment and. Richard brought his mouth down, just the head sliding beyond his lips, and resisted the urge to jerk back and away as Daniel spilled hot into his mouth. Richard let him in linger in the warmth for a moment or two before pulling off, swallowing without much forethought. It didn’t rank anywhere on the list of worst things to have in his stomach. The after burn of lust that Daniel shot out clearly thought something of it, however. Richard almost found himself grinning, opting instead to lick at some of the mess he had made on Daniel’s lap, enjoying how the other man twitched softly, uncontrollably, at the continued stimulation. 

The room felt warm in a different way as Daniel’s hand relaxed its hold, turning to pet lightly at the curls. Trying to turn to pet lightly.

“Ouch,” Richard muttered, voice thick and slightly rougher than usual. He winced playfully as Daniel retrieved his hand. 

“Sorry,” Daniel offered back, not quite teasing this time. He was still unsure about what just happened. By Richard’s standards, nothing too unsettling. Worse had been done to him in the past by people who hadn’t cared nearly a fraction as much about his safety. But clearly, rather obviously, Daniel wasn’t used to feeling someone choking lightly on his cock. The concern would have been touching if Richard had been in any real trouble. If he hadn’t been doing it to himself. “Come up here?” he patted the bed next to him softly. 

Richard raised himself up just enough to not have to awkwardly shimmy forward. Choosing instead to awkwardly crawl up towards the top of the bed. Much more dignified. Especially when he flopped down heavily on his side next to Daniel who. Wasn’t really looking at him. Or. Well. No, he was. Very much was, just not looking at his face. 

He even had the audacity to blush as he scooted forward, rolling onto his own side to fully face Richard. To give his hand better access as it slid down Richard’s chest, palming at his flagging erection. Quickly bringing it back to full hardness. Richard throbbed painfully and moaned out, scratchy, when Daniel obligingly tightened his hold, drawing the gathering blood up to the tip before loosening. Drawing back down to repeat the motion. Daniel cleared his throat, breaking Richard out of whatever brief, shallow revelry he was sinking into. 

“Are you really alright?” Well, wasn't that the most loaded question of the evening?

“Mhmm,” Richard hummed his assent, rolling his hips forward against Daniel’s hand. Again, the concern was…cute. But unnecessary. Daniel’s hand, however, was rapidly becoming very necessary. Especially when his fingers curled firm and sure and his thumb pressed in just under the head of Richard’s cock and. 

Oh, Richard wasn’t going to last very long if Daniel kept thinking about all the things he wanted to do to him when he got his second wind. Graphically. Thinking about. Oh, goodness could he really _fly_ and...

At the same time?

“…You little,” Richard managed, because Daniel was flushing crimson and grinning like the cat that caught the canary. It was only surprising that he didn’t wiggle his eye—no, there they went, waggling suggestively. It was a ridiculously out of place expression on his stupid, perfect face. The surge of affection that welled up in Richard’s chest at the sight of it was intentionally mislabeled and dismissed as lust. He didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with that at the moment. Daniel’s wrist was twisting and he really wasn’t going to last very long. 

“I love you,” Daniel’s grin softened, the pace of his hand picking up and forcing Richard to struggle to keep his eyes open. They wanted to slip closed, slide back. Sink into the pleasure. Richard’s senses felt murky, as though they were clouding over. Maybe it was Daniel’s fault. It was probably the lack of oxygen catching up with him, which was also Daniel’s fault, but in a better way. The bed rocked as Daniel shifted closer, close enough to brush noses, to press their foreheads together, to mingle air as he whispered again. “I love you, Richard,” 

And he meant it. Meant it the way other people would say ‘water is wet’. 

The feeling of it settled light and tingly over every inch of Richard’s skin and wreaked havoc on his heart, until finally he came with a soft noise, hips pumping weakly against Daniel’s grip and then jerking back and away when the touching didn’t stop. Daniel’s hands followed him, pressing at him. Daniel followed him, rolling together so that his weight could pin Richard down. So that his mouth could pin Richard down. Pin him because Richard couldn’t hide there at the end, the broken and desperate little cry had made its way out and Daniel wasn’t about to let him run away from it. He caged Richard down with his arms and his soft mouth and even softer heart pumping its feelings straight down into Richard. 

“I’m sorry,” Richard managed, once his mouth was finally released on parole. The only thing he could think of to say and even that left him feeling vile. Especially vile, because Daniel shook his head at the words. Because Daniel thought that he meant. 

Didn’t know he was talking about.

“You don’t have to say it, Richard,” Daniel punctuated his words with another kiss, more tender this time. What he said next landed like a punch to the stomach. “I know you do,”

**Author's Note:**

> No, Richard, a blow job is not an apology.


End file.
